adventures in memory loss
Had the stupid college student alcohol experience a couple years too late - drank a lot of really strong drinks in a pretty short time on Friday, ended up throwing up on a stoop for at least 2 and a half hours and needing to be taken home in a cab. Luckily a friend of mine stuck with me and a very, very new friend of ours really took care of me.
Thankfully, I remember very little of this, as it was my first time losing memory because of alcohol. I remember a bit of the stoop, a bit of the cab, and then pulling myself back together at the apartment. And apologizing a fair amount. . . oh dear, I feel so bad. I live really far away, I forgot to even ask about the cab fare! I need to do that tomorrow. At least I did all this early in the evening (I started with a long weekend party thing at work) so they could still hang out a bit after dropping me off.
Needless to say, I had a rough Saturday. I had a friend visiting me for the weekend but thankfully she caught a late bus and wasn't in til 5:45. I did nausea, I did headache, and I ended with extreme lethargy and trembling, but I was basically back in commission by the time I picked her up, and OK for an energetic day of walking around the city on Sunday.
Went to the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens, they were beautiful! We were there at around noon and it wasn't too crowded, sunny and lovely. I need more greenery in my life, I plan to go back with friends and a picnic and stuff to read and I don't even know. It costs $4 while Prospect Park is free, but it's very magical and lovely.
Then we went to the Merchant's House, which is a really, really awesome museum on East 4th Street that I recommend to anyone. It's a historical home, but the furniture and everything is what belonged to the family - the youngest daughter lived to her 90s and when she died in 1933 a cousin saved everything so it really let's you know what the family lived like. I used to volunteer at a historic recreation museum town thingie, but knowing that this was where the family really was and what they looked at was awesome, really amazing. Plus it was a wealthy Manhattan home, whereas we have all Long Island farmhouses mostly.
Then we walked along almost the entirety of the Lower Manhattan waterfront. Starting at 14th St. It was badass.
Anyway, the actual reason I posted was to share my first alcohol memory loss experience. Luckily I was with friends the whole time - the only smart thing I did that night - so it's just funny and not scary. What I've enjoyed is the random, treasure hunter feeling of these things slowly coming to light. A friend who was with me a bit earlier in the evening called to see how I was doing and said that maybe me and Becca shouldn't come over that night because his apartment wasn't clean. I had absolutely no idea that we had made any plans of the sort. Although I did get more evidence when I was checking my notebook on the subway this evening and discovered that he had written down his address.
I also remember that I was telling him about a couple of my weirder dreams (honestly not boring, my subconscious is kinda crazy) but I thought I didn't finish. I now know I did, because I apparently sketched the layout of my dorm room freshman year - pretty well. This was presumably used to explain the dream where a homeless person came into our room, spooned up behind me and bit me on the arm.
I also must have been slurring my words at that point, because I guess I wrote down an important line from my weirdest nightmare ever. What this lead to several days later was me, this afternoon, opening my notebook to the page where the pen is resting, and seeing "don't look at the white miner" scrawled across the page.
I almost pooped 'em. I honestly had a moment of horror. I didn't remember taking out my notebook, I thought I didn't finish talking about the dreams, I certainly didn't remember writing that. It opened right to the page like it was a message left for me. And in the dream, that was the message for me. I was told to make sure not to look at the white miner. (told by Charles de Gaulle while he was on break from being tortured, it's complicated.) But I couldn't help it! We were walking around this city and all of a sudden this horrible huge bloated pasty white creature lurches past a little ways away. He walked right in front of us! We were upset but we thought, well, they can't blame us - we didn't look for it, we just saw it, we couldn't help it! But when we got back to the rest of the group the other miners (who were covered in soot) had cannibalized them. Because we looked at the white miner.
So a moment later I pieced it together and started laughing, and I can definitely see myself being all "waaaait I'll write it down" because I honestly don't talk that clearly at the best of times, or maybe I was laughing too hard. But when I opened my notebook and just saw that staring up at me, I was alarmed.
Thankfully, I remember very little of this, as it was my first time losing memory because of alcohol. I remember a bit of the stoop, a bit of the cab, and then pulling myself back together at the apartment. And apologizing a fair amount. . . oh dear, I feel so bad. I live really far away, I forgot to even ask about the cab fare! I need to do that tomorrow. At least I did all this early in the evening (I started with a long weekend party thing at work) so they could still hang out a bit after dropping me off.
Needless to say, I had a rough Saturday. I had a friend visiting me for the weekend but thankfully she caught a late bus and wasn't in til 5:45. I did nausea, I did headache, and I ended with extreme lethargy and trembling, but I was basically back in commission by the time I picked her up, and OK for an energetic day of walking around the city on Sunday.
Went to the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens, they were beautiful! We were there at around noon and it wasn't too crowded, sunny and lovely. I need more greenery in my life, I plan to go back with friends and a picnic and stuff to read and I don't even know. It costs $4 while Prospect Park is free, but it's very magical and lovely.
Then we went to the Merchant's House, which is a really, really awesome museum on East 4th Street that I recommend to anyone. It's a historical home, but the furniture and everything is what belonged to the family - the youngest daughter lived to her 90s and when she died in 1933 a cousin saved everything so it really let's you know what the family lived like. I used to volunteer at a historic recreation museum town thingie, but knowing that this was where the family really was and what they looked at was awesome, really amazing. Plus it was a wealthy Manhattan home, whereas we have all Long Island farmhouses mostly.
Then we walked along almost the entirety of the Lower Manhattan waterfront. Starting at 14th St. It was badass.
Anyway, the actual reason I posted was to share my first alcohol memory loss experience. Luckily I was with friends the whole time - the only smart thing I did that night - so it's just funny and not scary. What I've enjoyed is the random, treasure hunter feeling of these things slowly coming to light. A friend who was with me a bit earlier in the evening called to see how I was doing and said that maybe me and Becca shouldn't come over that night because his apartment wasn't clean. I had absolutely no idea that we had made any plans of the sort. Although I did get more evidence when I was checking my notebook on the subway this evening and discovered that he had written down his address.
I also remember that I was telling him about a couple of my weirder dreams (honestly not boring, my subconscious is kinda crazy) but I thought I didn't finish. I now know I did, because I apparently sketched the layout of my dorm room freshman year - pretty well. This was presumably used to explain the dream where a homeless person came into our room, spooned up behind me and bit me on the arm.
I also must have been slurring my words at that point, because I guess I wrote down an important line from my weirdest nightmare ever. What this lead to several days later was me, this afternoon, opening my notebook to the page where the pen is resting, and seeing "don't look at the white miner" scrawled across the page.
I almost pooped 'em. I honestly had a moment of horror. I didn't remember taking out my notebook, I thought I didn't finish talking about the dreams, I certainly didn't remember writing that. It opened right to the page like it was a message left for me. And in the dream, that was the message for me. I was told to make sure not to look at the white miner. (told by Charles de Gaulle while he was on break from being tortured, it's complicated.) But I couldn't help it! We were walking around this city and all of a sudden this horrible huge bloated pasty white creature lurches past a little ways away. He walked right in front of us! We were upset but we thought, well, they can't blame us - we didn't look for it, we just saw it, we couldn't help it! But when we got back to the rest of the group the other miners (who were covered in soot) had cannibalized them. Because we looked at the white miner.
So a moment later I pieced it together and started laughing, and I can definitely see myself being all "waaaait I'll write it down" because I honestly don't talk that clearly at the best of times, or maybe I was laughing too hard. But when I opened my notebook and just saw that staring up at me, I was alarmed.